


A Love Like the Sea

by bird_of_paradise



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24462379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bird_of_paradise/pseuds/bird_of_paradise
Summary: A new farmer moves into Stardew Valley, taking over the old, run-down farm. Looking only for a respite from the drudgery of city life, Grayson finds a lot more than he was looking for.
Relationships: Elliott/Male Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	1. Before Spring

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is born of the desire to relive the magic of Stardew valley all over again. Keeping as close to the actual game events–in the beginning, at least–it is a reimagining of the characters we know and love. My first fanfic. I hope you enjoy.

Grayson had no idea what life had in store for him.

After grandpa passed, it took Grayson a while to work up the courage to open grandpa's letter. Grayson had instinctually tucked the letter into the inner pocket of his suit jacket at the funeral home when saying his goodbyes. And he had promptly forgotten about it. So you could say it was absent-mindedness that kept him from his grandpa's parting words, but that wouldn't be quite right either. The letter sat in his suit jacket for weeks until a particularly hoity-toity work event had him reaching into the back of his closet again. 

"Ah, I'd forgotten about this," Grayson mumbled to himself. As his hand unconsciously smoothed the fabric below the left lapel, he could feel the crinkly stiffness of paper underneath. The memory of gramps washed over him again, and he stole off to his work desk, slipping the letter into the upper drawer.

The letter was a constant, dull reminder that Grayson had unfinished business. His corporate job at Joja Corporation had originally seemed like a great opportunity. His parents were proud, and Grayson himself had dreams of moving up the corporate ladder and making something of himself. Making a life in Zuzu city. And yet, here he was, receiving a fresh stack of paperwork on a Friday afternoon.

Grayson could've sworn the guy two cubicles in front of him hadn't moved from his desk in ages.

"What did gramps say?" Grayson leaned back, catching the back of his head in his interlaced fingers. "Open it when I feel crushed by the burden of modern life? Something about an emptiness?" He chuckled. "Gramps always had a way with words." 

The low buzz of outdated, overheated desktops enveloped him. The white noise had a meditative effect, and Grayson was reaching into his desk drawer and opening the letter before without any conscious effort.

"To my Dear Grandson Grayson..."


	2. Spring 1

"Hello! You must be Grayson!" The red-headed woman smiled, reaching out for a handshake.

 _How does she know who I am?_ Grayson stiffened, until he realized that the estate lawyer must've gotten in touch with the mayor when the deed was transferred.

"Nice to meet you," Grayson smiled. He didn't want his city upbringing to ruin his chances to make connections with the local townsfolk.

"I'm Robin, the local carpenter." Grayson cast a furtive glance at Robin's hands. Short kept nails. Sinewy fingers. Rough callouses. A carpenter, alright. "I'm here to show you the way to your new home." Grayson flashed another smile, shook Robin's hand, and followed.

"This is Crossroads Farm." Robin looked back at Grayson as she said it, looking for a reaction from the young man. It took a while for Grayson to register what she said. After a beat, both of Grayson's hands shot up to his temples, the gesture betraying his shock.

"What's the matter?" Robin asked, bemused. "With a little dedication you'll have it cleaned up in no time." Robin smirked.

Grandpa had moved back to live with Grayson's parents in Zuzu city once his body had become too tied to keep up the farm, so Grayson shouldn't have been surprised. It had been years since anyone had tended to the farm. There was a not a patch of soil that was not overrun by weed, rock, or tree root. And the sight was enough to overwhelm the city boy who could barely keep his houseplants alive.

"Ahh, Grayson! Welcome! I'm Lewis, the mayor of Pelican Town!" A graying man in a flat cap walked out of the cottage's front door, waving earnestly to Grayson. "Everyone's been asking about you!"

"Me?" 

"Why yes, it's not everyday someone new moves into Pelican Town."

"Small town life." Robin smiled, trying to put Grayson at ease. Grayson had never even seen his neighbors in Zuzu, and the welcome committee had him off-kilter.

"I left a small gift for you inside. Parsnip seeds. Enough to get you started!" Lewis looked pleased with himself, enjoying the after-glow of his charitable actions. "I also made sure the cottage was up-to-code. It's been a while since anyone's lived in there, so I had to air it out for a bit. But it's a good, sturdy house."

"A bit crusty if you ask me." Robin laughed.

"Robin!" Lewis looked scandalized by the neighborhood carpenter. "Don't listen to her," Lewis sneered, "she's sowing the seeds of dissatisfaction to sell you a house upgrade!"

It was Robin's turn to look peeved. _The townspeople in Pelican Town don't pull their punches_ , Grayson mused.

"I just might take her up on it."

"Ever the diplomat. I was worried about how you'd fit into our small town, Grayson, but maybe there's nothing for me to worry about." Lewis's eyes twinkled. "Anyway, when you get tired toiling on the farm, feel free to stop by town and introduce yourself!"

Lewis wrapped his thumbs around his suspenders, turning to head back into town. Robin did the same, catching up to the mayor to discuss business taxes and swap local gossip.

 _What am I doing here?_ The reality of Grayson's life choices was now as real as the soft soil beneath his feet and the smell of musty cabin behind him.


	3. Spring 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grayson comes to terms with farm life and, by chance, meets the strange fellow living on the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say thank you sooooo much to everyone who read (and left kudos/comments on) the first two chapters. This is a labor of love, and I want nothing more than to help bring joy to all my fellow Stardew Valley fans.

Grayson was unaccustomed to the manual labor required to tend to a farm. He was lucky he found some old tools lying around—a scythe, an axe and the like. Chopping down a single tree had exhausted him, and Grayson barely managed to plant and water the turnip seeds Mayor Lewis had kindly gifted him before retiring for the night. The second day on the farm was just as brutal, the watering can heavy and unwieldy. _Did I make the right choice?_

By the third day, Grayson accepted that the small patch of freshly-planted turnip seeds would have to suffice for now. The farm, although overrun with weeds and debris, was a decently sized plot. And Robin was absolutely right—the soil underneath was good. But there was no way Grayson could clear the entire farm of debris, even if he spent all spring and summer doing just that. And even if he did, there was no way he could physically plant and care for several acres of crops anyhow.

 _Maybe I'll introduce myself around town,_ Grayson said to himself. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, remembering the letter he received that morning. _Perhaps stop by the beach south of town and say hello to that fellow named Willy._

* * * * * * *

"Gee, thanks." Grayson felt bad taking Willy's bamboo pole. It seemed sturdy and well-cared-for despite its age. The fishing rod was quite obviously loved. But Willy seemed ecstatic to let Grayson have the fishing rod, his eyes in the shape of half-moons and sun-tanned skin wrinkling in the corners. 

"It's nice to see young folk movin' in to the valley. It's not very common these days." Willy said forlornly, taking a long drag on his pipe. He was looking out beyond the pier, staring out he sea. He had turned around to be respectful of Grayson, careful not to let the smoke from his pipe blow directly in the young man’s face. But it seemed as if Willy was no longer speaking to Grayson, but to the sea.

"I'm not that young." Grayson meekly protested.

"Young enough.” Willy glanced over his shoulder. “We need to keep the ol' art of fishin' alive." Willy cocked an eyebrow. A seagull squawked in the distance. 

Grayson couldn't make any promises. He can’t cast a line for ages. City life wasn’t conducive to those kinds of leisure pursuits. But Grayson didn’t want to betray his lack of confidence, especially in response to an act of generosity. He simply nodded at Willy as if to say, _Yes'sir_ , and took his leave.

His boots made a satisfying tap-tap-tap sound on the wooden pier as he turned away from Willy and headed back toward town. Life in the valley was so quiet, it felt like Grayson was taking in the sounds and smells around him for the first time.

Sounds, smells, and _sights_. As Grayson made his way back to town, he noticed a cabin tucked into the trees. The cabin was well-worn, the wooden planks showing the beginnings of rot. But while the outside looked rough, Grayson could see from the window that the interior was well kept. _So someone lives in there_.

Staring at the cabin, Grayson didn't notice the gentleman walking toward him.

"Ah, the new farmer we've all been expecting... and whose arrival has sparked many a conversation!" The gentleman opened his arms out in a flourish at Grayson’s presence.

Grayson was taken aback. All the other villagers he had met so far seemed normal. As in, from this time period. This stranger seemed to have walked out from the set of _Interview with a Vampire_ , with his wine-colored velvet coat and dark green slacks. Above the neck was no better. The man's hair was long, and the wavy locks swept across his face and fell down his shoulders.

"I'm Elliott. I live in the little cabin by the beach. It's a pleasure to meet you." Grayson took the outstretched hand in his in a polite handshake. Elliott’s fingers were slender and skin smooth. Elliott's hand slipped out of his hold before Grayson came out of his trance and remembered his manners.

"I moved into the abandoned Crossroads farm. I'm the new farmer. Grayson." He tried not to let the tone of his voice belie his surprise at Elliott's appearance.

"Crossroads farm." Elliott cupped his chin in thought. "I heard the elderly farmer who had lived there passed away recently.” He pouted. "A tragedy and a loss for the community."

"That was my grandpa. He left me the farm when he passed." Grayson paused. "Did you know him?"

"I apologize. My intention wasn't to mislead." Elliott waved his hands in an effort to clear the air. "I've just moved into the valley a year ago myself. By that time, it was only his reputation that remained in Pelican Town.”

Elliott extended his hand to the new farmer's shoulder, first laying it gently and then squeezing in a gesture of solidarity. Grayson felt strange to have Elliott touch him during their first encounter. It felt too familiar. But Elliott showed no hesitation or shame, his smile warming before letting his hand fall away.

“I’m kind of new to this town myself, but I really feel at home. I hope you'll also come to think of this place as home." And with that, Elliott turned to leave.

Grayson watched as Elliott slipped a key into the doorknob of the old seaside cabin. _Locking that old door seems futile. One good kick and that door'll break in two._ The whole thing seemed impractical to Grayson. From his long hair to his velvet coat to his polished shoes, Elliott's entire getup made no sense, especially for a life on the beach.

As Grayson headed back through town square toward his farm, he couldn't help but shake his head at the absurdity of it all.


	4. Spring 5

Grayson spent the week carefully tending to the parsnip seeds, and to his surprise the bushy heads were green, vibrant, and ready for picking. 

_My first crop._ Grayson grinned like a madman. When’s the last time he’d ever grown anything? Elementary school? 

Grayson had quickly adapted to his new schedule, waking up to the distant rooster cries that came, presumably, from a farm south of Crossroads. While he had never been an early riser, the first night on the farm knocked him out before the sun had completely set. And since then, his routine had him up at dawn, feeling more awake than he had in years.

He bent down to inspect the parsnips, pulling on the bushy head to unearth his hard work. 

The parsnips were a good size and ready to be harvested. _That was quick._ A novel sense of fulfillment swelled in him.

Grayson had put off planting new crops long enough. The soreness in his muscles was finally waning, and he thought it would be a good time to pay the local general store a visit. 

* * * * * * *

There were few customers at Pierre’s that Friday morning. Grayson noticed a heavy-set gentleman perusing the dry-goods section, and made a mental note to introduce himself later. He heard from Mayor Lewis that a lot of the townsfolk blew off steam at the neighborhood saloon, and Grayson figured his self-introduction would be better received after a couple of pints anyway.

“Hey! It’s Mr. Grayson, the new farmer!” The man from behind the counter, presumably Pierre, waved. “If you’re looking for seeds, you’ve come to the right place!”

“Pierre, I presume?” Grayson readjusted the crate of fresh parsnips, balancing it against his left hip with his left arm as he reached his right out for a handshake.

“That’s right. Owner of the local general store.” Pierre glanced at the crate Grayson was holding and its contents. “I’ll also buy produce from you for a good price! I see you’ve got some parsnips with you today,” Pierre said, eager not to miss out on a business opportunity.

“First harvest of Crossroads Farm. Well, my first harvest at least.” Grayson corrected himself. The look of pride on his face quickly shifted, turning more somber.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had any fresh produce to sell,” Pierre said, noticing the way Grayson’s face sank. “Your grandpa was an important part of our community. I’m glad you’ve decided to take over the farm. Now let’s see those parsnips!”

* * * * * * *

Grayson hauled ass back to the farm after selling his crops, reinvesting all his profits into new seeds. It always felt like there wasn’t enough time in the day to get everything done, from watering his crops to foraging to fishing. Today was no different. Grayson wanted to finish planting his newly-purchased seeds before he missed prime time at the saloon, and there wasn’t a lot of time left in the afternoon to do so. _What was it called again? The Stardrop Saloon? What the hell is a stardrop anyway?_

Luckily, the sun was only starting to get low when Grayson watered the last patch of cauliflower seeds. And although he needed a long, hot bath before showing up at the saloon tonight–lest he give the villages a bad first impression–he couldn’t help but take a moment to admire his handiwork.

Grayson sprawled out on the steps leading up to his cottage, leaning back on his elbows. His boots were caked with mud. He made a mental note to take them off so as to not trail dirt all around his house. 

Crossroads Farm seemed a lot smaller before he started clearing the land of weeds and dead trees. But as Grayson worked, his property seemed to stretch out forever. He even trekked to the edges of his property to make sure that he wasn’t encroaching on someone else’s land. What he found was a dense forest that clearly delineated the land that belonged to nature. As overgrown as the farm was, it was obvious that the land hadn’t fully returned to nature.

 _So this is my life now._ Grayson mused. The sun was floating down toward the horizon, covering the land in a warm, fiery glow. The soil Grayson tilled still hung in the spring air, filling Grayson’s nostrils with the smells of the earth. To the right of him, the grass rustled. Grayson could only catch a flash of brown fur as a woodland culprit fled the scene. _Could be worse. Could be slaving away at Joja._ Grayson grinned. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he slowly made his way to wash up before his big night.

* * * * * *  
  
_Mayor Lewis wasn’t kidding when he said the saloon could get pretty lively!_ The faint clamor Grayson heard as he approached the Stardrop Saloon was the first give-away. But the building was obviously well-built, since the sound when Grayson stepped inside could only be described as a ruckus. He was used to the bustle of city life, but the deafening quiet of the first week did not prepare him for this.

“Well hello there!” A booming voice cut through the commotion in the small saloon. Grayson turned to the heavy-set man he had seen earlier at Pierre’s behind the bar. _He must’ve been buying supplies for the saloon._ As Grayson made his way over to the counter, the man introduced himself. “I’m Gus, chef and owner of the Stardrop Saloon!”

“And I’m Emily!” A blue-haired girl leaned over across Gus, her hands busy drying a beer glass. “What’ll it be?”

“Two of your finest ales, please," Elliot said, holding up two fingers to make sure Emily understood, despite the noise. Elliott saw the entire sequence of events transpire, including Grayson's utter look of confusion confusion as the entire town seemed to be on a first-name basis with him. So Elliott did what any good Samaritan would. He stepped in to help.

“Only one kind of ale in this establishment!” A raspy voice drifted over the noise of the saloon.

“If it’s good enough for you, Pam, it's got to be the finest ale around.” Gus boomed, his mustache quivering with laughter. The barkeep seemed oblivious to the side undertones of Pam's remark.

“Two of Stardrop’s finest ales! Courtesy of Gus!” Emily announced cheerfully, and clanked the glasses onto the counter. Elliott grabbed both handles in a single hand, using his other to gently guide Grayson toward the quieter end of the saloon.

“Hi, I’m Leah.” Leah stood up, reaching a hand across the table to shake Grayson’s. Leah, unlike Elliott, seemed perfectly accustomed to country life. Her long, auburn hair was tied up neatly in a side braid. Her midriff peaked between her shirt and slacks, held up by leather suspenders. She looked rugged, yet elegant. “You picked a good time to move here. The spring is lovely.”

“Leah’s just a fan of the spring forage." Elliott smiled, and pushed one of the ales toward Grayson. “Leek and dandelion make a great spring salad. Right Leah?”

“You really must try it." Leah's eyes lit up at the mention “There’s a lot of wild food in the area west of town.”

“Nice to see you making an effort to join the community." Elliott said, steering the conversation. He raised his glass. “To our new friend. May the valley provide a bountiful harvest and Pelican Town a welcome respite.” 

“And to new friends.” Leah joined in, raising her wine glass.

Grayson glanced at the two villagers who had so quickly taken him under their wings. “To friendship.”

  
* * * * * *

“That’s Pam. She spends her evenings in the saloon over a pint.” Elliott had his back facing the rest of the saloon, making him the perfect person to quietly introduce the town villagers to Grayson without anyone noticing.

“She has a daughter. Penny." Leah chimed in. “They live in the trailer near the river.” Leah's tone of voice was polite and neutral, albeit slightly slurred after one two many glasses of wine. If she thought badly of Pam’s drinking or her housing situation, she didn’t let on.

“Pam used to drive the bus to the desert before it broke down. Left her without work. A tragedy.” Elliot frowned. He was a bit more forthcoming, emboldened by several pints of ale. 

“Pam. Got it.” Grayson was particularly drunk. Farm work in the hot sun left him slightly dehydrated, and the alcohol hit him all that much quicker.

“You met Gus and Emily. Gus owns the Stardrop Saloon, and Emily helps out in the evenings.”

“They’re not related.” Leah interjected. "Emily lives with Hailey, her sister. Their parents are traveling so they’re living by themselves.”

“That’s Marnie talking to Mayor Lewis." Elliott cocked his head to the older couple. Lewis and Marnie were leaning in close, oblivious to the world around them.

“Word around town is that they're an item." Leah winked, eager to share a piece of salacious gossip.

“They’ll deny it if you ask them, though." Elliott shrugged. “They’re both single anyway.” Elliot obviously found nothing exciting about the secret relationship. “Marnie tends the farm south of yours'. She raises cows, sheep, hens. You name it.”

“Her nephew, Shane, and his goddaughter live with her.” Leah added.

“Shane?” Grayson’s head buzzed. _How am I going to remember all of these people?_ , he wondered.

“He’s the guy in the hoodie and shorts at the end of the bar.” Elliot motioned to the scruffy man nursing a pint. 

“Another saloon regular." Leah said.

“Ahh.” Grayson was reaching his limit with the introductions. His eyes scanned the crowd for familiar faces. He saw Willy sitting at a table with another gentleman. Pierre was at the bar, trying to flag Emily down for a drink. Robin was slow dancing with someone.

“Too much for one day?" Leah could see Grayson's eyes swimming. 

"That’s Clint, the town blacksmith, talking to Willy." Elliot pressed on. "You met Willy when you came down to the beach, right?”

“How did you know?” Grayson asked.

“Helpful hint for life in the valley. Word travels fast, and rumors even faster.”

“Something Elliott learned the hard way." Leah’s smirk let on that she knew more, but Elliott did not let her continue her train of thought.

“And that’s Robin with her husband, Demetrius.” Elliott quickly continued, a slight blush reddening his cheeks.

“Second husband.” Leah clarified.

“Second husband?”

“Second husband." Elliot didn't elaborate. "Her son from her first marriage is back there by the pool table. The one with the dark hair. Sebastian. And that’s Sam and Abigail with him.”

“Abigail is Pierre’s daughter. And Sam is Jodie’s son. He has a younger brother named Vincent. And Sebastian has a younger sister named Maru” Leah added. “Confused yet?”

“No…” Grayson protested. Leah and Elliott exchanged a look. The farmer could barely keep his eyes open.

“I’m less concerned about you learning everyone's names, and more concerned about you getting home tonight.” Leah giggled. 

“I’m fine…”

“Someone doesn’t know his own strength." Elliott stood up, unconvinced. “Let’s get you home.” He hooked his right arm underneath Grayson’s shoulder, laying Grayson’s left arm on him. Leah stood up to support Grayson on the right, the two friends flanking the new farmer as they headed out the saloon door.

Grayson could faintly hear Gus's booming laugh as a soft lull came over him.


End file.
